Hated kind of love
by TianZi
Summary: Introspective of the relationship between Nagi and Omi --- LemonLime... sorta... So... Nagi, do you hate or love Omi kun?


Title: Hated kind of Love Author: Kaze Pairing: NagixOmi Genre: Lemon/Lime (for me, I kinda think it's implicit… But for prudish people…) Note: POV of Nagi *Found this in the drawer rotting. So… haha… Review if you had enjoyed it.

  
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I hate you.

I hate you for being able to see through me, so utterly into the dark murky depths of my soul of which I desperately wish to deny.

I hate you for knowing that I can never hurt you deliberately, and that every pain, every injury that I have caused you in battle cuts like a knife and have left me bleeding since.   


I hate you when you stand there, so silently by the doorway while I try to mask my pain but failing while you regard me with your ever so adoring eyes.   


I hate you when you quietly stride over, wrapping me up in those thin warm arms of yours when tears slip pass my eyes, making a bitter trail down my cheeks.   


I hate you when you hold me even tighter, embracing me, as if trying to absorb away all my pain and hurt when I fail to hold back a shudder.   


I hate you when you gently kissed the path my tears have taken, caressing my hair with your hands as you mutter soft, comforting words into my ears.   


I hate you when you lift my chin, reflecting my vulnerable image in those twin sapphire orbs that shimmer ever so beautifully, the evidence of your pure, unblemished soul.   


I hate you when I cannot tear my gaze off your eyes, so entrance I am in your gentleness and the comforting forgiveness they offer.   


I hate you when you tell me 'It's alright. Everything will be fine,' and make me want to believe you.   


I hate you when you hold my face with your soft, tiny hands, roughen slightly from the usage of your crossbow.   


I hate you for leaning down, letting your sweet, soft lips touching my own dry, bitter ones, then slipping in your tongue to comfort me, beckoning me to open up and to surrender to the slow, heated passion.   


I hate you for making me want more.   


I hate you for making me lost in the sweeping current of passion.   


I hate you for finding me.   


But I cannot help but give in to the unfaltering tsunami of emotions that even my physic powers fail to restrain. Cannot stop it when I moan into your mouth as your hands slip down unexpectedly, lightly caressing my sides. Your finest of touch send me into a feverish tremble, so sensitive is my body due to the side effects of my physic powers. I can feel your tongue inside my mouth, licking, teasing me, and trying to wake me up from my stunned wonderment.   


A challenge proposed. As response, I raise myself to the challenge, twisting my tongue around yours, sparring forcefully, invading the territory that was unmistakably you. And you give up with nothing more than a little sigh.   


I need to feel your body, need to touch your bare skin, need to hear you moan like I do, to see your blue midnight eyes darken as I make you feel the way I do, make you as crazy for me as I am for you. The need, so strong in its demanding rush that it makes me want to simply rip off the annoying clothing that you are wearing and just push you onto the floor, sinking myself deep into you. But the knowledge of how much it would hurt you stop me as effectively as a bucket of ice would.   


So I break off the kiss, pausing for a breath before raising my gaze back to your dilated, unfocused eyes. As your twin sapphire gaze adoringly back at me with your complete trust, gentleness and acceptance, I feel a painful tug at the jagged pieces of broken memory from so long ago.   


It burns. Its white-hot flames scorching my flesh, my soul, with every kiss and every gentle touch. It tries to stay, but is rejected by my heart and pulled apart by the healing caresses you bestow upon me. I burn, with passion or with pain, I do not know. All I know was that I must have you, want you, need you.   


I tear away your shirt, noting with a tiny satisfaction as the buttons land on the floor with a series of clutter before rolling away for safety. Your startled intake of breath is almost lost in the jumble of my emotions and passion, of my pain and pleasure.   


I want to touch you, to feel your every breath, every heartbeat, every shudder you make, every moan you sing.   


Laying my hands on your chest, I am almost surprised by how white your skin appears to be under the faint glow of the moonlight. So innocent, so divine, so pure and all mine. No matter how much blood your hands has spilled, no matter how many lives of the criminals you have killed, you will always be so pure and innocent to me. Forever armed with a cheerful smile, equipped with a gentle acceptance and always, you are so forgiving, even to a monster like me.

As I am about to drown in the same black pool of guilt and self-hatred, you pulled my head down to your thin, broad chest. 

"Nagi, forgive yourself. You are a wonderful person. What happened is not your fault. Let it go."   


As always, I believe him. For that tiny moment, I rest my tired soul on his accepting chest, letting go of the guilt that always, for every moment in my life, threatening to engulf me, to swallow me whole and destroy me for causing the ruins of so many lives. For a moment, I almost thought I am pulled from the wreckage that is me, saved from my silent, self-destroying reverie.   


Your kisses, your touches, your words sheltered me so well that I feel reluctant to leave your warm embrace, to once again step back into the merciless onslaught of the crimson rain that I can never escape from. I am a forgotten child, lost and abandoned and never found… Until you.   


Suddenly, I find myself not caring. Not caring whether we are enemies, not caring if we are both boys, not caring if we are human, not caring if we are right or wrong, black or white. All of a sudden, all the things that once yield such importance to me seem to have lost their value... And all I can see blue, the sapphire blue of your eyes, innocence stained in the crimson of blood and yet remain unblemished by the darkness of the human hearts.   


I think I hear you scream my name as I pushed myself into your welcoming embrace. I think I whisper your name as you shudder with the pain and pleasure, telling you things I never mean to reveal, moaning my ecstasy of being surrounded by you, of your hot flesh melting into mine, of the sweetest caress, the most intimate touch of all that you have given to me. I can form no coherent thoughts. My mind is filled with you and only you. Your innocence, your purity, your consideration, your sensitivity, your acceptance, your forgiveness, your determination, your generosity, your sweetness, your pain, your hurt, your passion, your tears, your joy, your smiles, your cries…. All of you that makes up you… It surges through me, cleansing away all of my heartache, all of my sins and my guilt, all that had tormented me for so long, for a moment there, seems to vanish like dust in the wind.   


That's just it. It's all over. I collapse onto you, breathing hard, struggling to snatch air back into my lungs. The feeling of euphoria extends its reach throughout my whole body, sending tingles of satisfaction across muscles and skin, then dribbles slowly to an end.   


Lying on your chest, I can hear your frantic heartbeat slowing down, your rapid breathing lessening, and the cooling perspiration on your skin. Nothing, just the feeling of sweaty skin on sweaty skin, the gradually slowing down of quick breathing, the feeling of something wet and the smell of semen in the room. So this is the aftermath of sex?   


But when you wrap your thin arms around me, pulling yourself towards me and breathe those words into my ears, I feel something that I have never experienced for so long…   


"Love you."

I still hate you for saving me from myself. 

But I love you more than anything else. 

  
  



End file.
